Evening Songs
by Triskell
Summary: One song leads to another... (allusions to slash - so mild you won't even see them ;D)


Evening Songs 

Title: Evening Songs

Author: Triskell (ferngully_at@yahoo.com)

Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien's, the first poem is a mark of his genius. The second is not, since it's mine ;D.

Pairing: Legolas/Gimli

for The Aniron LotR Song Challenge November 2002:  
"Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? ..."  
**A special thank you to my first reviewers, who pointed out a few little things, you guys are wonderful!**

EVENING SONGS

(c) Triskell, November 12/18, 2002

  
_"Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?  
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?  
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?  
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?  
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;  
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow."_  


Legolas' voice carried over the water as he sang, his eyes fixed on a point before them, hidden by the trees. The falls of Rauros that had taken Boromir to his rest. Sorrow wove its way through the words, entertwining with a note of pain and longing. For all the beauty around him, the elf could no longer feel light-hearted. Even his freedom hung heavily upon him.

A grunt beside made him look downwards, and a small smile played on his lips as he noticed the stout dwarf beside him, leaning heavily on his axe, seemingly unmoved by the song, though the spare evening light caught the shimmer of wetness at the corners of his eyes.

"I know what you are thinking, Master Elf."

"How so, Master Dwarf?"

"It is written on your face, in the lines of your tears."

"I grieve for Boromir. As do you."

"Aye, I grieve for the warrior, but you grieve for the man."

Once again, Legolas looked into the forest, wishing for serenity he had long forgotten how to grasp. When the dwarf spoke again, it was in a strangely quiet voice, as if he were trying to gentle a skittish horse,

"Did you think him fair?"

The elf looked at his companion, but Gimli had averted his eyes, and stood like a grim, forbidding statue of centuries old stone, staring ahead.

Legolas inclined his head, "I thought him fairer than many other man, though not the fairest I have seen. I grieve for the songs that will never be written about his bravery and his courage; my head is full of tales carried on the wind, waiting to be told, but destined to be forgotten."

Gimli grunted again, stamping the ground with his axe, "Riddles! That's all you elves know! Riddles and songs. If t'were not so nice to listen to your voices, one would say you are exasperating creatures."

The elf's smile deepened for a moment, even as another tear slipped down his cheek. He did not thank his companion for the gruff compliment, but his heart rejoiced in it all the same. Still, he wondered that Gimli should have asked such a question. He had not thought his song to celebrate Boromir's physical beauty.

It was true that he had been fascinated by the warrior, curious, as he had been about Aragorn when they first met. Men were intriguing creatures - their lives full of surprises. Would anyone have supposed the son of Gondor to possess artistic talents? They had been hunting, waiting, after laying out their traps. Conversation did not come easily to Legolas, his heart and mind was always listening to the sounds around him, the whispers in the air, the smells of grass and earth.

Surprisingly, his initial silence had not seemed to offend Boromir, though once his interest had been aroused, he had been quick in asking questions, and their talk had much delighted him. He had woven his knowledge of the man's hidden talents, so unlike a warrior's harsh grip on his sword, into his song.

Gimli's reaction had been strangely reproachful, as if he were accusing the elf of being in love... Legolas looked up, barely noticing that the dwarf had already moved from his side to kindle the fire. Aragorn stood tall a little farther off, skinning a small forest creature. An idea formed in his mind, and he smiled, the heaviness upon his soul lifted a little.

~ 

Legolas did not find a greater measure of peace in the next few days as he sped through the forests with Aragorn and Gimli, hard on the heels of the Orcs that had captured their little friends. However, his thoughts were, at times, pleasantly engaged in putting together a little surprise for one of his companions.

One night, as they sat around the fire, the Ranger noticed a smile on the elf's face, for all that the food had been horrible and their journey that day all but pleasant. Legolas noticed the man's gaze and spoke up,

"You are wondering why I am smiling, are you not, Aragorn?"

His companion nodded, a little uncomfortable that he had been found staring, "Far be it from me to judge you, my friend, yet I have not seen you so calm since we lost the son of Gondor."

Gimli grunted, busying himself with his axe, and Legolas' smile faded a little as a lingering sadness flitted across his face. Aragorn sighed, cursing himself for his unfeeling bluntness, "I did not mean to cause you grief, Legolas. Pardon my hasty words."

The elf shook his head softly, acknowledging the sincere tone and the mention of his name. He seldom heard it spoken, for it conveyed a closeness that was rare among companions such as they were wont to be. He smiled again, brushing his hand against the leaf clasp of his Lothlorien brethren.

"My grief is no more than yours, Aragorn, and honesty is always welcome. Yet, I have not answered you: I was just thinking of a song the wind has taught me these past days and wondering if you would care to hear it."

Both the Ranger and Gimli nodded, the latter casting his eyes down to not betray his delight at the prospect of hearing the fair elfish voice.

Legolas looked upon the dwarf and sang a low and lilting tune, that spoke of drum beats in the darkness...

_"Deep in the heart of the mountain  
Hides a love that will never decay  
Ruby in fires is glinting  
And dark eyes drive sorrow away  
  
Beauty is naught but illusion,  
If sought in the bare light of day,  
Sometimes it's the glow of an ember  
That teaches a lover to stay."_  
  
  


And as Aragorn rose to take his watch at the edge of their camp, Gimli smiled at the elf, a tear glistening on his cheek.

Finis.


End file.
